Sarah Marie
by Cafinatedangel13
Summary: It's another one of those stories where Bella walks back into Jake's life uninvited.
1. Chapter 1

The world was still, silent almost

**Sarah Marie**

Well, ladies and gentlemen, keep in mind that I have yet to actually invent a plot, and have only the first two or three chapters outlined.

Other than that, enjoy! 

The world was still, silent almost. Trapped in the hazy cushion of a summer shower, the only sound the steady drum of fat raindrops hitting the wooden roof. A chill followed each gust of air that blew through the trees, but they were thankfully few and far between. The air itself held a lazy warmth, not hot, the day Forks, Washington ever experienced real heat was the day Elvis, Bigfoot, and the Tooth Fairy held a barbeque in Union Square, but a comfortable warmth, like a fire's glow.

The icy breeze made the soggy air a little uncomfortable, but she loved it just the same. The moderate _pitter-patter_ of the rain above her head, accompanied by the constant _splat _and _plop_ as it splattered into the already saturated earth, against the background of the water _drip-dropping_ through the trees and finally _splashing_ into the surrounding puddles, with the occasional _swish_ of the wind through the forest and grass was better than anything she could find on the radio.

Perhaps it would pick up by the time 9:00 rolled around and she had to go to bed. Everything would increase in tempo, the rain becoming a constant _thudthudthud_, and the wind would _howl_ through the trees, feral and comforting while lightning zig-zagged all the way from the heavens to the trees below, or flashed brilliantly in a blanket across the sky, blacked by the heavy clouds, and best of all there would be a sudden _crash_ and _bang _of thunder as it kept the beat of nature's symphony. Her favorite lullaby.

She longed to be out in the rain, steady but not pouring, settled on the soggy ground amid the puddles, to feel the drops against her face and running through her long dark hair, turning the lovely reddish, chestnut brown a deep, midnight black to match her father's. But the rain she adored so completely would ruin the book she currently reading, _The Divine Comedy_ by Dante, and that would be a tragedy, especially if the book was destroyed before she was old enough to actually understand what the heck it was saying. So she settled for the old wooden rocking chair on the porch. The rain splattered against the old paint-chipped railing far enough to splash her arm, but the sturdy black roof protected her book from the elements. It would have to do.

Without looking up from the page, she was aware of someone watching her. The sound of the rain had changed, the drops falling in different places and hitting something solid instead of the ground. Even if she hadn't heard the slight adjustment of harmonics in her music, there was the sudden feel of eyes on her profile. The air was suddenly sweeter and more thinly spread; she was clearly sharing with somebody.

Equally clearly it was not a repeat visitor. Whoever it was simply stood quietly at the base of the steps leading up to the porch. Her many uncles never bothered with tradition, personal space, or privacy, and were constantly letting themselves in, laughing and greeting her with booming voices and bear hugs every time. Aunt Emily and Aunt Leah were also a familiar presence around the place, more polite and less boisterous, but always announcing themselves with warm greetings, cooing over how big she was getting and what a pretty girl she was. Aunt Emily and Aunt Leah were _always_ welcome as far as she was concerned. Grandpa Billy was always a host, never a guest.

Swallowing hard, she tore her eyes away from the gray-white page and turned to face her guest. Standing just in front of the first step was a girl, maybe a few years younger than her dad, watching her curiously, as if she were an unexpected puzzle that needed sorted out. Intrigued, she matched the curious gaze with her own and settled down to study the unexpected visitor.

Long, thick, mahogany locks fell around her face and shoulders, glossy and almost shimmery in the weak light. The medium brown contrasted beautifully with the egg shell complexion of her skin, equally striking and hauntingly perfect. And her eyes, a peculiar but lovely shade of deep amber, rich and warm like honey, were hypnotic and inviting.

She was easily the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen.

"Are you an angel?" she asked in the blunt, innocent form only a child could get away with. She'd always been told she followed too closely in her father's footsteps where tact was concerned, but no one seemed to be willing to explain what that meant.

It didn't appear to be of any particular concern as of yet, though, because the girl just flashed a brilliant smile that only a child could induce and responded, "No, but I think I'm looking for one."

Before she could ask if the angel had a name, the front door swung open, earning a startled gasp from herself and a slight jump from the lady at the steps. Her dad stood in the doorway, expression unreadable; a mask she'd never seen before. He'd always 'worn his heart on his sleeve' as Aunt Emily would say; his emotions written plainly on his face, harmonizing in his voice, and expressed through his actions. Seeing him with no expression at all was strange and unnerving.

"Sarah Marie," His voice was equally blank, level and calm, betraying nothing from his mind or heart. It was a stranger's voice from a beloved face. She didn't like it. "Inside." Her lips parted to form a protest that died on her tongue, "Now." His tone left no room for argument.


	2. Chapter 2

He knew it was too good to be true, that the silence wouldn't last

**Background Mostly**

Okay, I'm not gonna lye, this one really isn't as good as the first chapter, but I think I like it more. If that makes sense…

Also, it might be a little confusing from here on out. Don't worry, It's supposed to be. I'm hoping questions will answer themselves as we go along, mostly because I'm playing things by ear and might be just as confused as you are. I have the next chapter and a half outlined, but after that it could go pretty much anywhere. I'd be happy to answer any questions to the best of my ability, though.

And now, thank you for the generous donation of the next several minutes of your life. I'll try to use them wisely.

_He knew it was too good to be true, that the silence wouldn't last. _

_It was impossible for him to even begin to guess how long the paths and alleyways of his mind had remained vacant; time meant nothing to the wolf. The sun rose and set and would continue to do so. The idea that the cycle could mean something was utterly foreign. And when the voices began filtering through his consciousness, calling, begging, demanding all at once, it was though no time had passed at all._

_The voices began blending together the way day and night melted into each other for the wolf. Where he had once been able to pick out the individual notes of lifelong friends and new companions, like the different harmonies to a song, there was now one constant, echoing chatter. One voice made of many, all consuming and impossible to ignore._

_"ComepleasepleasecomebackwemissyouBillymissesyoucomepleaselongenoughshemissesyoucomehomehomehomehomehome!"_

_And it never stopped! It was an incessant hum of white noise running around through his skull, clouding his mind and heavy with the force of the voices._

_It must have taken months for him to lose himself to the wolf, to surrender so completely to the side of himself that he'd fought and resented so long, but it took only days for the wolf to be crushed beneath the sheer weight of the familiar, forgotten voices. The wolf didn't understand, couldn't fight back. But _he___did and, unfortunately, knew only one way of escape._

_The pain was excruciating, crippling in its intensity. He'd forgotten just how frail human bodies were, and his couldn't handle this. He collapsed in on himself, barely feeling the scratch and scrape of tree bark on his naked back as he slid down to the forest floor. He wrapped his arms around his legs, curling himself into a tight ball, chin resting on his knees, eyes staring absently at the leaf covered ground without seeing anything, as the agony ripped through his fragile body, reminding him why he'd traded it for his second form with powerful muscles and an unfeeling heart._

_Time once again passed without meaning as he adjusted to his old, unfamiliar body, relearning the scent and feel of his own skin, reminding himself to just keep breathing and ignoring the sharp spike that accompanied each breath. But it was dark when he heard the twig snap. Several feet to his left and at least thirteen straight back. His senses at least had not dulled with the transition back into the form he was born with. Whoever it was was downwind so couldn't pick up a scent, but from the ungodly ruckus they were making, the shuffling and crunch of dead leaves, the occasional snap of twigs, and the rustle of bushes being pushed aside, they weren't attempting to be stealthy. He could also tell from the way the wind moved, the way he could hear it circulating in different patterns than it had been just seconds before and different then he'd heard through the time he'd spent as a wolf, that the newcomer was not one of the prey animals he'd come to recognize. No, they were defiantly human, and still at least ten feet away. That gave him time to pull his pants on._

_The old sweats he'd tied to his leg were pretty ragged when he'd left. He remembered holes in both knees, frayed stings on the left ankle, and he was pretty sure they'd been green when he'd bought them as opposed to the strange almost gray color that came with age and use. But they were comfortable, easy to get in and out of, and if he blew them up, who cared? _

_Now, however, they were falling apart. The forest had nearly shredded them beyond recognition. The waist band was torn and frayed, and there were numerous holes and rips throughout the abused fabric. The right leg was torn at the knee, leaving it stringy and noticeably shorter than the left. The washed out gray was now an even less appealing murky brown, stained with dirt, grass, and everything else he could possibly pick up in the wilderness. But he guessed he was probably stained with the same debris anyway and slipped into the tattered rag._

_As he was tying two halves of the rip across his waist together to keep them in place, the source of the racket stumbled upon him. He turned in one swift, graceful motion when he felt an unfamiliar presence behind him, his sharpened instincts forcing him into a defensive position although he knew there was no danger._

_He found himself face to face with a girl, about a foot shorter than himself and clearly dressed for the outdoors. The pale red and white flannel shirt she wore was painfully movie influenced but practical in design, light in color and material so it moved with the air, allowing easy movement and temperature regulation during the warmer hours of the day, but equally sturdy so it was less likely to catch on thorn bushes or to carry briers and, when buttoned up, would hold in body heat during a chill. Her faded blue jeans were obviously well worn and patched in several places, but also seemed far more capable than his old sweats of standing up the forest's abuse for an extended period of time. The light brown hiking boots that covered her feet showed no signs of damage outside of the mud caked up to the laces._

_Her hair was so red it was almost brown-it probably flamed in the sunlight-and pulled into a high ponytail, out of her face and way from the greedy fingers of the trees and bushes. A peaches and cream complexion gave her a soft appearance, but it was spread over strong, sharp features that suggested otherwise. Her eyes, sapphire blue and nearly bottomless, were wide._

_It was then that he realized what he must look like to this girl. Half dressed (Assuming his shredded sweatpants even counted) and dirty with his long black hair tangled and knotted with leaves and twigs, falling to his middle back. Dark eyes wild, body crouched in a battle stance, every muscle tensed and waiting. Good Lord! he even had his teeth bared!_

_Slowly, he sucked in a breath, allowing the air to calm and sooth his rapid heartbeat and stressed muscles. Just as slowly, he released the breath, breathing out the adrenalin his system supplied so readily. One by one he relaxed his waiting limbs and eased out his crouched position, a blank expression settling on his face._

_Unsure of how to proceed from this point, he simply stared. The silence stretched out for a long moment. And finally, she broke it._

_"Are you lost?"_

_Her voice had a defining quality, high but husky and slightly accented. Warrior-like but melodious and sweet, suited to the strong features of her face. _

_He nodded, "Yes," his own voice as unfamiliar to his ears as it was to hers and rough with __lack of use. "Lost."_

It was the smell that got him first. Sickly sweet and burning, like sugar charred black, but also soft somehow. A subtle undercurrent, almost floral, beloved and familiar.

…Instinct pushed his strides further apart as he nearly flew to the heavy oak door leading to the wraparound porch, practically skipping the hall stairs all together and literally knocking well loved furniture out of his path. His mother's lamp snapped in two, a broken leg on his favorite chair, he'd never liked that table much anyway…

And then he was conflicted because part of him, the part that had run away, that, even now, continued to wait patiently, grieving, hoping, _knowing _whispered excitedly in the back of his mind. _It's Bella!_

…He almost separated the door from its hinges in his haste to get it open…

But the rest of him, the part that turned into a wolf the size of a horse on a regular basis, that was still bleeding from wounds that had never really healed, screamed. _It's a vampire, and it's _ENTIERLY TOO CLOSE TO MY KID!


End file.
